Filium Meum
by Yukann
Summary: When Percy stumbles across a baby lain carelessly on the doorstep, he couldn't resist the urge to pick him up, cradle him to his chest, (crumpled) letter and all. As the son of Poseidon looked into the child's green eyes, he swore that come hell or whatever that seemed to cling to the child Percy would die before anyone harmed a hair on his head.


A/N:

A new oneshot cum advertisement for this idea. I'm hoping someone'll take this and make it a full-blown story. If you're interested, PM me please! Oh and before anyone asks, no, I'll probably not continue this story anytime soon if ever. For those following my other stories, I have no excuse besides laziness and studies. Considering that I'm supposed to be studying now... yeah. *sheepish laugh* Hopefully I can put up the next chapters soon though in a little while since I'm working on making my chapters longer. Hope y'all enjoy this small oneshot! ^^

P.S. This is unbeta'd so feel free to spot any mistakes and inform me! :)

Filium Meum:

When Percy stumbles across a baby lain carelessly on the doorstep, he couldn't resist the urge to pick him up, cradle him to his chest, (crumpled) letter and all. As the son of Poseidon looked into the child's green eyes, he swore that come hell or whatever that seemed to cling to the child Percy would die before anyone harmed a hair on his head.

-0-

It had been a long day, month, _year_ , when Percy had stumbled upon the little child. His life, Percy presumed darkly, was probably some form of entertainment to the people upstairs (the Fates), and that was why he was in his current predicament. An accidental spell gone wrong curtesy of Lou Ellen and BAM! Percy gets transported through whatever and landed on his pitiful ass in the middle of Kansas – literally. Attempts to contact his family failed, and when he'd slogged up enough money to travel back to Manhattan to find his mum, all he'd discovered was nothing. Nada. Zilch. There wasn't a trace of his mum anywhere in Manhattan, nor at Long Island. In fact, any trace of the half-bloods was gone. There was no indication to their existence.

Desperate, he'd tried sensing the Mist and manipulating it. Instead, Percy had touched upon something deep inside of him he had never felt before and accidentally caused an explosion right in the middle of Long Island, resulting in a blackened face and frizzed up hair. It took him a few more months to be able to scrounge up enough information from shady dealings and some really _really_ old books to find out that magic was real and that was what he had. Magic. His life was officially one messed up pile of screwed up.

Considering that he was in another world entirely (and woah, he'd just kind of confirmed the Multiverse theory, sorta, maybe), Percy didn't have any legal documents or some such and had thus gone to someone who was recommended as being the best at forging records by, obviously, some shady friends that he'd made while trying to find out about magic.

The son of Poseidon had to fork over quite a sum to get everything settled. By that time, however, Percy had gone and sold a few Drachmas he always kept on his person for emergencies for money. Considering that Drachmas were made of pure gold (Olympian gold* but close enough), and the fact that he never went anywhere anymore without at least a hundred (bribery came in handy sometimes), Percy probably didn't need to work for quite few years if he saved.

So it was another three years later when Percy felt a disturbance in the Magic**. Such a large disruption had never happened before, even when the son of Poseidon had realized that he was a lot more sensitive to Magic than most wizards, all Percy had felt so far were small pinpricks that allowed him to sense where magic existed. What was worrying was the fact that the disruption reeked (or felt) of Dark, Evil magic. He had lived here for going on five years already, and at the prime age of twenty-three, this was the first time Percy had tasted something so inherently _wrong_ in his entire life, Kronos notwithstanding. Considering that Americans were mostly neutral and didn't give two shits about whether one was 'dark' or 'light', that was saying something.

In those three years following his discovery, Percy had trained hard in the art of magic, mastering several subjects like Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Potions and surprisingly, the Dark Arts. Maybe it had to do with his heritage, but Percy literally excelled in both DADA and Dark magic; Transfiguration and Potions coming a close second. Herbology wasn't very interesting, same with Astrology, Arithmacy and Divination. Care of Magical Creatures and Runes were his next two favourites as part of Runes were Greek runes, and while he was mediocre with charms, spells that had to do with water came easily to him.

History of the magical world was as fascinating as the Greek Mythology, though due to his dyslexia, it took him quite a while to finish the many _many_ books on the past happenings of the world. Currently in Britain, Percy was horrified to read; there was an ongoing war between the 'light' and 'dark' side, each using those types of magic respectively. 'Light magic', as defined by the British, was supposed to be 'good', and 'Dark magic' was evil. A load of shit if you asked Percy.

To the son of Poseidon, magic was just a weapon, and everything depended on the user. He'd learn that the hard way. Dark Magic was just a tad more addictive and harmful in Percy's opinion. As someone who had learnt both dark and light magic extensively, Percy really wondered what in Hades' name the British were teaching their children. He resolved to find that out as well when he headed over there to investigate (and no matter what anyone said, it was purely to ensure that the war wasn't going to drag on into America, not for curiosity's sake).

-0-

It took him a few hours, but he was packed and ready to go within the hour of his decision. The plane ride took a few hours, and Percy napped then to conserve energy so that he wouldn't be totally wiped out when he reached England.

The moment he got off the plane, the residual effect from the disruption hit him like a ton of bricks, causing the son of Poseidon to pause in the middle of walking to the baggage collection. It had felt like a large headache had started hammering within his head.

"Hades... This is a lot more severe than I thought." Percy muttered to himself, pushing the pain aside.

The fact that there was even a residual spoke volumes of how strong the disturbance was and to have that strong a reaction, there was bound to be something very wrong with the situation at hand. He ran a tired hand through his hair, sighed before picking up the duffle he dropped and headed out of the airport.

Percy suddenly felt a tugging sensation at his naval; it seemed to be directing him somewhere. With a shrug, the son of Poseidon set of in the direction where the feeling seemed the strongest.

It took him a few hours and the feeling kept changing directions, but by night, Percy had arrived at Surrey, England. The tugging had grown even worse, as he followed it, the sensation brought him to the front of a double-storied house. The feeling vanished abruptly, and Percy knew that he'd reached his destination. Whatever had caused Magic's reaction was here.

A movement from below caught his attention. Percy swore, quite loudly, when he saw the shivering child on the steps of No. 4 Privet Drive. He couldn't resist picking the baby up and cradling him to his chest. As the son of Poseidon looked into the child's green eyes, he swore that come hell or whatever that seemed to cling to the child Percy would die before anyone harmed a hair on his head.

-0-

*Have no idea if this is true but meh, just go with it

** Magic is the entity; magic is the energy. Not sure if I used it right but whatever. ;)


End file.
